Skræling
by Don'tKillKenny
Summary: "Iceland couldn't supress the grin that broke out on his face. He had not only discovered a new country, but this country had his eyes, just like a little brother." A version of the vikings first discovering Vinland  now Canada . Fluff, Violence, Angst


Skræling 

He was starting to hate the sight of water. Iceland had been on that ship for three days, and still, nothing. The damned wind had blown them off course. Some of the men were whispering about turning back and just returning to Greenland; he was not sure if he agreed or not.

For crying out loud, they were just trying to help Herjólfsson find his father's stupid farm! It should have taken a day at most, but no, there was a storm and now they're in the middle of Odin-knows-where. He prayed to find some land, or a way back home, without Norway having to bail him out; he'd had enough of his babying for a few centuries, thank you very much.

"Cap'n! There's land! I see land! In the North-West!" A sailor yelled. Everyone immediately rushed over to see, and surely enough, there was land. But more importantly, there were trees. They had found forests.

Iceland smiled.

They took note of where it was (because no, they had not found Herjólfsson's stupid father's farm) so that the greatest explorer, Leif Ericson could return to investigate it further.

The land was magnificent. It went on for miles; Iceland wondered if maybe it was not an island, but rather a continent! There were so many trees, so much wildlife, so many riches just begging to be brought home. This was perfect. He had just found a way to obtain great deals of wealth _without_ Norge's help! The feeling tasted sweet.

Iceland decided to wander for a bit, see what kinds of plants and wildlife there were here. It truly was beautiful. He remembered when Greenland had forests like this; unfortunately, they got a little too greedy over there.

As he was wandering through a long stretch of land, which Iceland could easily envision as being the perfect field, he heard something; a muffled cry. It almost sounded like a child. _What was a child doing here? _

He followed the noise. Part of him was concerned, could this be some strange type of animal that could mimic the sounds of a dying prey to attract its meals? Could this be some kind of trap? Could there be people here?

And that's what thrilled him most; the possibility that there was another nation here. He might be able to be a big brother too! Norge would be so jealous!

Right; Norge. Iceland had forgotten about him for a bit. Iceland wondered if he should tell him or not. He would be able to brag about having to found a new land, but if he did speak, he would also have to share it. Well, Norge was usually pretty good about sharing…

_Danmark isn't. _

Iceland had to stop his pondering because he had reached the source of the pathetic mewling. He pulled out his sword, ready to attack, but it was far from needed.

It was simply a child. He had fallen over, and his upper torso appeared to be stuck in a rotting log in an almost comical fashion. _If all the natives are this graceful, perhaps setting up colonies here won't be too difficult after all. _

The child continued to whimper. He wasn't even a child; he was more of an infant. Couldn't have been more than one or two years old.

"Well, he's not much of a threat, I suppose." Iceland carefully grabbed the portion of the boy's midsection that was not stuck in the log. _How did he manage to get stuck like this anyways? _

He pulled. Nothing happened. _Alright then._ He pulled harder. Still, nothing happened. With a determined expression, he put on foot on the log, and pulled back as powerfully as he could. The child came loose and both went flying back into a swamp-like…thing.

"Perfect…my best pants." Iceland scowled. The soft gurgling from his lap brought his attention to the child he had just rescued. He was a cute child with a a large mop of pale blonde hair and a shy, gentle smile. But Iceland couldn't help but notice his most dominating feature; his large, violet eyes.

Regular humans have brown, blue, grey, hazel, or green eyes, but never _violet _ones. Iceland couldn't supress the large grin that broke out on his face. He had not only discovered a new country, but…

_This country had his eyes, just like a little brother. _

Iceland brought the infant nation with him back to the camp. It was a cold night, and it didn't seem like the child had any caregivers, so really Iceland had no choice but to look after him, and raise him, and teach him how to survive, and help him grow, and be called 'big brother'; of course, no choice.

Iceland wrapped the boy in a simple red cloth; he would have given him something a little more extravagant, but he wasn't expecting to meet him so he was really quite unprepared. Still, the boy seemed entranced by the crimson surrounding him.

"You like it?" Iceland asked curiously. In response, the baby let out a soft sigh, almost sounding like an affirmation. Iceland smiled again. He wasn't sure when the last time was that he had smiled this much. Had it been ever?

"I like the colour red too; it's on my flag, but blue is still my favourite. I'll show it to you sometime." The boy blinked up at him, clearly not having understood a word the older one had just said. Suddenly, his stomach grumbled. Oh yeah, kids needed to eat, didn't they?

The child appeared unsure of his food at first. Iceland held the Hákarl in front of him a little longer, before Iceland finally decided to eat it. _Maybe he's not used to this kind of food…_

Wait, what did this kid eat?

The boy started to eat some of the dried fish. Well, at least he was actually eating now. Iceland ate as well, and watched the little one stare in wonder at the new food, smell it a bit (_I have to teach him some tact_), put it in his mouth wearily, smile, chew, swallow, and repeat. Iceland chuckled affectionately; his new little brother was really cute.

They went on like this for another twenty minutes of so, until the younger yawned and his eyes drooped with weariness. Iceland blinked in confusion. What was he supposed to do now? Should he put the kid to bed, or was he supposed to do something first? It didn't look like the boy was about to cry, so was it alright? Hmm, what did Norge always do?

_He sang lullabies._

Ok, so a lullaby is the right thing to do? Which lullaby was best? Iceland had no idea. Was it supposed to be this confusing? Finally, Iceland decided to sing one of his old favourites.

"_Bí, bí og blaka  
álftirnar kvaka.  
Ég læt sem ég sofi  
en samt mun ég vaka._

_Bíum, bíum, bamba,  
börnin litlu ramba  
fram á fjallakamba  
ad leita sér lamba_."

Lost in the melody himself, Iceland barely realized that his new little brother had fallen soundly asleep in his arms, snuggled up against his chest. Iceland smiled again. Maybe being a big brother wouldn't be that difficult after all?

The next morning proved Iceland wrong. The boy just kept on screaming and screaming. He tried everything. He offered him more food, sang more songs, made funny faces, he even tried doing a little dance for the kid! Why wouldn't he stop crying?

"Come on, what's wrong? Are you hungry? Tired? Bored? Dirty? What is it?"

"Here, try this." Another pair of arms swiftly grabbed the child, and within a few moment, a tiny burp was heard, as well as a relieved sigh. Iceland turned around, and saw the last person he wanted to see…

"What are you doing here Norge?"

"Some of your men told my men that there was more land over here, so we came to see for ourselves. A pretty impressive find, I must say. Good job Eirikur."

"Don't call me that, _Lukas_." Iceland bit back. Norge simply rolled his eyes.

"Oh relax, no one is here to steal your glory little brother. We just wanted to see what this place was like for ourselves."

Iceland glared and was about to speak again, but he was very quickly interrupted.

"Guys, you have _got_ to try some of these berries! They are otherworldly! They're amazing! Did I ever tell you how much I love you guys? You're, you're just awesome!" Danmark smiled at them, staggering over to give them hugs.

"Norge, why did you bring him? And is he drunk?" Iceland couldn't believe this. It was one thing to have an oaf like Christensen around a young one, but to have him there drunk? That could _not_ be setting a good example for his poor younger brother!

"Of course he's drunk, he's Danish." Norge replied simply.

"No, no guys, seriously. These berries are great! Try them! They're, they're almost as incredible as you guys!" Danmark stumbled over to Norge, thrust some berries in his hand, and fell over flat on his face. The child laughed lightly at him, thinking he was something like a clown, perhaps.

Norge hesitantly squeezed a little juice out of one of the berries and licked it. He contemplated for a bit.

"It tastes like they're fermented."

And that was how they came to name Iceland's little brother Vinland.

As time went on, Norge and Danmark spent more time with Vinland. Iceland disliked it, but really there was nothing he could do. Both countries were stronger than him, and it wasn't like there weren't enough resources here for them to share. He just had to bear it.

It had gone on like this for a little while. Vinland always slept with Iceland at night, and spent most of his time with him throughout the day, so it wasn't too bad. Danmark would occasionally play with "Vinnie" and they would come back hours later laughing. Norge read folk tales, to which Vinland would listen intently until he beckoned for Iceland to come so he could nestle against him and fall asleep. Iceland loved it when he did this.

The most exciting time was when Iceland was boiling some meat for lunch. He had learned earlier that although Vinland tried hard to walk, he was very bad at it. He never really took steps actually. He more stood up, fell over forwards, crawled a bit, and repeated the process. Still, the boy never cried; he was pretty persistent for a child his age.

But as Iceland was gently stirring the meat, making sure it didn't stick together, he looked over and saw him. With a look of pure determination on his face, Vinland carefully, and very ungracefully took one step forward at a time.

Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot.

He finally made it over to Iceland, when he finally leaned over and hugged his leg.

"Big brother!" He smiled brightly. His first steps and his first words; both had been just for Iceland.

It was a quiet night like any other. Norge had gone back to check on how things were at home. Iceland and Danmark stayed to continue gathering resources.

"Hey Ice, pass another blanket, will ya? It's not exactly warm here." Iceland rolled his eyes at the nickname, but passed him the blanket anyways.

"Here you go, Dan." Let's see how he likes it.

"My name's Chris." Damn, didn't work. Ah well, he'd think of something someday if he really cared about it.

"Sirs! There's someone outside who's not from our camp! We think there may be people living here!" People living here? Inhabitants? Of course! If there was a nation here, there must be inhabitants! Well, Vinland was very sweet, so these people must be kind-hearted and gentle, like his little brother. This shouldn't be too bad.

They got outside and quickly began to search.

"Where is he? Where is the inhabitant?" Iceland asked impatiently. He wanted to meet the citizens of his vassal nation.

"Well, we haven't actually seen her yet…"

"Her?"

"Yes; it sounds like a young girl. She is screaming something strange, over and over again. We are not sure if it's a ritual or if she's searching for something."

They heard the yell.

"Matoskah! Matoskah! Matoskah!" Matoskah? What is Matoskah?

Iceland could feel his little brother awakening as the voice drew nearer. He began to fidget as he heard the noise.

"It's alright little brother; no one is going to hurt you." Iceland reassured. Is Matoskah some kind of ritual?

Soon, the crier came to them. She was nothing like what he would have guessed. Vinland was pale, blonde, and had shimmering violet eyes. This girl, she was older than him, around eight, and was dark, had black hair, and black eyes. Why did they look so different?

"Matoskah?"

Vinland smiled and gurgled in pleasure. Is Vinland Matoskah?

"Matoskah!" Danmark said brightly while waving. Oh dear, he thought it was some kind of greeting. He clearly was wrong; the girl gave him a look that anyone could easily translate into meaning 'what in the name of the seven hells is wrong with you?'.

The girl seemed very unsure, but kept glancing at Vinland. Iceland cautiously and slowly pointed to Vinland.

"Matoskah?" The girl nodded. _At least she can answer yes or no questions._

Iceland then pointed to himself. "Iceland." He pointed at her, asking for her name. She looked unsure.

"Pocahontas." Pocahontas? What kind of name was that? As if sensing their confusion, she started acting it out. She appeared to be playing. 'Playful one'?

"Well, at least she seems nice." Danmark stated optimistically. She immediately stopped and pointed at him.

"Danmark!" He smiled and waved. He always seemed friendly…

The girl nodded, and immediately turned around and ran into the forest. Vinland reached out for her and started to cry. Perhaps he knew her? Still, something did not seem right about this.

"Strange; I know Vinland is small and inexperienced, but most people have the common sense to not send a defenseless kid out into the wild to look for someone." Danmark pondered. Iceland agreed; that had seemed odd.

"Now that I think about it, there's a couple of things wrong with this. Vinland's been with us for a couple of weeks, right? Why would she look for him now? If she thought he were a human, any person would have assumed that an infant would die quickly in the wilderness alone. And they don't really look alike either…" Danmark had some very good points.

"Yes, well not all my people look like me, I suppose…"

"Yeah, but that different? Also, what kind of people send a defenseless kid out into the wild in the middle of the night screaming for someone? It's basically begging for a predator to get her…"

"Well, Vinland is still young. Perhaps his people are barbaric."

"I don't think that was one of Vinnie's people."

"What?"

"I think that was another nation."

The next day, the girl came back, but she came back with many others. Iceland, Danmark, and their men were unsure about these people. They looked so different, like no one they had ever seen before. The little girl was holding the hand of a much taller woman, presumably her mother, and that's when Danmark's suspicions were proved correct; she had violet eyes. That girl was Vinland's sister.

The woman pointed at Vinland.

"Matoskah." She said, and pointed back to herself. Iceland understood. She's saying that that's her son. Immediately, all the men with her came forward and dropped sacs in front of them. They were full of various pelts, all immaculately prepared. The nights had been getting colder...were they willing to trade?

One of the men made a motion to Danmark's hip.

"Is there a spot there?" He started rubbing it, trying to get it out. They all shook their heads. The man patted his side. _Danmark's sword_. They wanted to trade for weapons. They hadn't brought many though.

"Hold on a second." One of Iceland's men said. He ran back to the camp, and had some women help him bring something out; milk. He offered some to the woman who appeared to be the mother nation. She took a weary sip.

In the end, the foreigners traded the pelts for milk and other food items. The mother nation had signalled that she would share Vinland. They had formed an alliance with the inhabitants here, or the Skraelings. Iceland could officially keep his younger brother.

Pocahontas came and visited regularly, as did the mother, who was named 'Maka'. Danmark somehow managed to successful ask her what that meant. She just pointed to the ground. _Earth._ Danmark would play with Pocahontas and Vinland if he was there; apparently, he gave the best horseback rides around. Iceland and Maka would sign to each other, making various trade and military alliances, while the sounds of resounding laughter and poorly imitated horse sounds echoed from outside.

A great event in their newly formed alliance came about when the first Icelandic citizen in Vinland, Snorri was born. Cute kid, cute name.

Since things were settling down so nicely here, Iceland sometimes returned home, dealt with things there, and went back. He hated leaving Vinland; the poor child always cried when the ship began to sail away, and Iceland had to hold his own tears in as well. But, within a few weeks or months, he would be back, and Vinland would always welcome him with open arms.

They discovered two new lands there; Helluland and Markland. Markland was even more bountiful in trees and Helluland was bountiful in…well, rocks. But still, they met very interesting people there, and they all seemed to be open to trade.

It was difficult, since none of them spoke the other's language. They were getting better at using hand gestures and signing to each other what they wanted. It was not difficult to please both sides.

Vinland began to grow as well. He was learning more words, walking and running easily, and appeared to have grown a bit as well. He appeared to be between two and four years old now. Seeing this, Norge said what Iceland saw as one of the most significant things ever said to him throughout his entire life:

"You're better at being a big brother than I thought you'd be."

Iceland smiled back.

"I learned from the best." They quickly and somewhat awkwardly hugged, and would never speak of it again.

A few years had passed, and the same harmonious relationships went on. Some of the winters were especially harsh so they had to move further south, but it was nothing they could not handle.

In 1009, some of Iceland's people brought more settlers and livestock. Their farming communities were really beginning to flourish. Iceland smiled as he watched the settlements gradually expand, and as Vinland grew more and more. He was turning out to be a very peaceful nation, so as a nickname, Iceland declared him "Fridrick", peaceful ruler, just as a nickname of course. He wasn't hoping that he would actually keep this name, not at all. Besides, his name was already Matoskah, which Danmark learned meant 'white bear'. How on earth he managed to figure that one out, he would wonder for many, many centuries.

Sadly, all good things come to an end.

It was a fairly typical day. Some of the Icelandic famers were preparing the goods to be traded; the foreigners were expected to be arriving any minute now. Fridrick had spent the night at Iceland's, as he normally did. He was currently sitting on Iceland's shoulders pointing at different clouds.

"Fish!" He yelled at one that appeared to be a salmon. Iceland laughed and agreed. Although Fridrick was still not very fluent in Icelandic, he was getting better. He knew a fair bit of his mother's language though, although it seemed that they had quite a few. Perhaps there were various subsets of his mother nation?

The foreigners arrived as they had every week, smiling and carrying packs full of goods that they had obtained from the wilderness. As it turns out, Vinland was not the only one who liked the red cloth; the men all wore some as headdresses, and traded many pelts for them. It took a great deal of restraint from Iceland and his people to not laugh when they first saw this, but they had gotten used to it; it was probably a cultural thing.

Both sides laid down goods and observed the others. The leaders both nodded and they prepared to exchange them. There was a crash heard from a gate somewhere.

"Get it back! Get it back in!" An Icelandic farmer cried. Everyone looked over in curiosity.

A bull came rampaging out of the trees, and leapt right in between the two groups of men. Everyone screamed and ran back. Vinland started to cry as Iceland carried him into a nearby hut. The foreigners left their goods but ran away, rowing in their canoes as quickly as they could. It took them an hour to catch the bull and return it to the farm that it came from.

Vinland was still scared that night when they went to sleep. Vinland had never actually been scared before, and Iceland had no idea how to calm him down. He hoped everything was alright; it was just a rogue bull after all, right? It couldn't break over 9 years of peaceful relations…he was positive.

Iceland sung the lullaby he'd sung on the first night.

"_Bí, bí og blaka  
álftirnar kvaka.  
Ég læt sem ég sofi  
en samt mun ég vaka._

_Bíum, bíum, bamba,  
börnin litlu ramba  
fram á fjallakamba  
ad leita sér lamba_."

Both of them fell asleep that night, clinging on to each other as tears streamed from their eyes.

Iceland held Vinland's hand as they watched the waters, waiting for Maka's men to return. It had been nearly three days since the bull ran wild. He hoped everything was alright. He was really beginning to worry.

Vinland looked up and saw this. He gave his brother's hand a reassuring squeeze and smiled.

"It's ok, big brother. We still together, right?" Iceland smiled down at him and nodded. That really is all that matters in the end after all.

Finally, they saw a boat appearing from over the horizon. Iceland was relieved, but only for a moment. There were more boats, many more boats. Why were there so many boats? That's when the first attack came. They had brought catapults.

Everything descended into chaos within mere seconds. The first rock or whatever they threw had struck a man and killed him instantly. Iceland felt the worry within him as his people ran away in fear and disarray, trying to quickly figure out where they should go to escape.

Some tried hiding, but they were quickly found. Other ran, but were quickly struck and killed. Some even tried to fight back, but they did not have their weapons with them; they were in their homes, which were collapsing all around them.

Iceland ran away, carrying Vinland with him. He was frightened for his people, angry that the natives could be so enraged by a stupid bull, and ashamed that not only could his people not fight off such primitive weapons, but he had clearly failed as a big brother.

As his people were running to the ships, grabbing whatever was light enough to bring with them, he heard someone yelling from behind them. It was a pregnant woman, begging for them to wait.

Iceland looked back. He wanted to help her, but the natives were closing in on her quickly. He had no choice; he had to leave the woman and her unborn child to the mercy of savages.

He suddenly heard a series of frightened screams; it wasn't his own people, but those of the natives. He looked back and saw that the pregnant woman, in a gruesomely bold move, took a sword and stabbed her breast with it. The carnal act frightened the natives (and himself frankly) and they ran away. However, he knew that they would not have much time.

All of his surviving people took as many belongings as they could and boarded the ships. Tragically fortunately, enough of them had died that space was not too much of an issue. Iceland and Vinland held hands as they watched the ships being boarded.

He looked over at his little brother. He was so sweet, so kind, and _his _little brother. He was so peaceful, and whenever he got his own people, they were sure to be good, peaceful people too. Iceland wanted to wait with him, he did, but…

"Vinland. Do you want to come with me?" He gestured between the boy and himself, then to the ships and away. Vinland blinked, then as he grasped Iceland's hand he pointed back to the settlement and smiled gently. _Let's go back home, brother!_

Iceland looked at his poor, younger, confused brother. He had a mother and sister here, but were they good enough? They had left him alone for weeks when he was even weaker than he is now, and searched for him only when he could have been long dead!

_Unless they had been looking in other places before that. _

Iceland didn't trust them, couldn't. He knew that he would do anything to protect Vinland. He already had, hadn't he?

_Hadn't he? _

"Big brother?" Vinland was beginning to cry now. He was scared. Iceland left sometimes, but he always assured him he would come back; it was never this tense before. Iceland knew that Vinland could pick up on tensions around him. He was a very sensitive and empathetic little boy, something that Iceland knew his people will someday appreciate.

_His people, his people who will someday be here. How will his people survive without a nation binding them together?_

"Big brother!" Vinland cried out. He was tugging on his shirt now. "Big brother! What's wrong? Big brother!"

Iceland was scaring him now. A good big brother shouldn't do that. A good big brother would never let this happen. A good big brother, like Norge, hadn't he been like Norge?

Iceland cried and held Vinland close to him.

"It's alright, little brother. It's alright. I'm still here, we're still together. It's alright."

The sun was beginning to set. It had been such a long day. The ships were ready. "Sir, are you ready?" One of his men yelled to him.

"Just a moment!" He yelled back, trying to hide the sadness and anguish from his voice. He looked down at his little brother, who was staring up at him with his large violet eyes, which were filled with tears. He could see his reflection in them, but it was distorted from the tears. _Or is it distorted from a child's misplaced love? _

Iceland wanted to bring Vinland with him. He did. But would he return? How? When? The relations with the natives were already so bad.

"Big brother…" He whimpered again.

"It's alright." He took out a red cloth, Vinland's favourite colour, and wrapped it around him. He then picked the wrapped up Vinland in his arms, and gently rocked back and forth.

"_Bí, bí og blaka"_

When he first sang this, the warmth of fire surrounded them, and gentle crackling of the fire playing the role of the instruments.

"_álftirnar kvaka"._

Now, it was the sharp biting of the cold winds that intricately danced around them, and the crashing of the waves against the cove singing for them.

"_Ég læt sem ég sofi"_

The sweet smell of boiling fish was the aroma that surrounded them before.

"_En samt mun ég vaka."_

Now, it was the salty smell of the ocean that separated their homes by miles that filled their senses.

"_Bíum, bíum, bamba,"_

They had connected immediately, just by staring into each other's identical eyes, and they were both happy.

"_Börnin litlu ramba"_

He looked into his little brother's eyes as they began to close, and now both of them shared the sadness of the inevitable.

"_Fram á fjallakamba"_

He had promised to Vinland and himself that he would help he grow, be strong, and be independent.

"_Ad leita sér lamba_."

Now the only way to do that was by letting him go.

He never did show him his favourite shade of blue.

Hundreds of years later, nearly a millennium, they would meet again. It would be at a World Conference meeting.

Iceland stood with the other Nordics, excited but scared to be meeting so many other nations. He simply hoped he wouldn't make a fool of himself; his accent is very strong and somewhat difficult to understand after all.

"Alright everyone, it's time to get this started!" That would be America. Iceland had never had much interaction with him himself, but he had heard quite a bit from other countries…especially Britain.

The meeting went on in a decently orderly manner. Every nation got a chance to speak, until finally it was Iceland's turn. He would get to voice his opinion. Dear God he hoped he wouldn't mess this up.

"On behalf of my people, I would like to motion that we-"

"Dude, can't understand what you're saying."

Iceland blushed furiously. Fucking accent!

"I'm sorry. I think we should try to find a more effective way of overcoming our problems by using better communication methods that will help us overcome the barrier of language differences and-"

"Vee ~ what was that? I can't hear you from over here."

"He said that we have to solve communication problems in order to resolve conflicts…" a quiet voice from beside America shyly translated.

"Oh! Talk better to get along better! Gotcha! Good idea Ice! Now, who's next?" And then they continued on. Iceland wasn't paying attention though. Across the table from him sat Vinland, or rather as his nametag read, Canada.

He looked so different. His hair grew out into a more…French style. He had glasses, but mostly, he was so much bigger and older now. He looked even more mature than Iceland!

The meeting continued on, and finally ended hours later after much shouting and unnecessary racial slurs towards other nations (mainly Britain and France to each other; it was actually quite amusing).

The Nordics all gathered outside and conversed about how the meeting went and whether or not they were happy. Iceland wasn't paying attention at all though. He was still staring at Vin-no, Canada who was now talking to Britain.

"Listen America, I am just trying to get it through that thick head of yours that-"

"No, Arthur, really, I'm not Alfred, I'm-"

"Who are you?" His polar bear asked. Iceland glared; how could the polar bear forget his own master? Mr. Puffin would never do that to Iceland, and Iceland would never do that to Fridrick…

"Hey! Uk, Mattie! What's up?" Ah yes, I suppose that America is Matoskah's brother now…

"No way, is that who I think it is?" Iceland and everyone around looked at Danmark confusedly, as he started to walk over to the bickering trio.

"Vinnie! How've ya been kiddo? It's been forever! Ahaha!" He put Vinland in a headlock and proceeded to give him a noogie.

"Who?" Both Vinland and his polar bear said at the same time.

"Vinnie, Vinland, whatever! It's been too long! How's your sister?"

"You have a sister?" America asked with a smile that strongly implied that he wasn't going to be listening to this for much longer.

"Well, yes, she's surviving, but not very well. She completely depends on me for almost everything and she's very discouraged in general-"

"How do you two know each other, anyways?" Britain interjected.

"Huh? Oh me and Vinnie go way back, almost a millennium now, right?"

"That's impossible." Britain declared.

"Huh?"

"I discovered him and his brother and few hundred years ago. They hadn't had any contact before then. "

"No, I can't say I remember anything." America chirped.

"Well, I kind of do…"

"What?" Everyone turned to him. Canada was amazed; he'd never had everyone actively pay attention to him before. It was kind of exhilarating in a way!

"Well, I mean, I sort of remember someone, eh? But, only sort of…"

"What do you remember?" Russia asked sweetly.

"Not much…just he had the same eyes as me, he showed me the colour red, and he used to sing a song I liked…"

Iceland had to leave. He couldn't listen to this anymore.

That night, all of the nations got together to go drinking. Many of them were very merry, however a larger portion of them made complete asses of selves; Iceland was one of them.

"I'm such a failure! I can't be a big brother, and I have got so many volcanoes! Why do I have so many volcanoes? And earthquakes! What's wrong with me!"

Norge, who was sitting beside him, sighed. Iceland hadn't actually gotten drunk in a very long time, because his own legislation prevented him from drinking, but when he did get drunk, he was a very self-loathing drunk.

"You're fine just the way you are Iceland…"

"No I'm not! I put my own people in danger and mess up other people's flights…"

"Hey, cheer up buddy. You seem like a nice guy to me…"

"No I'm not…"

"Yes, I'm sure you are. You know what always cheers me up when I'm upset? I sing a song. I don't really remember the lyrics, but I know the melody…"

He began to hum the lullaby. Iceland looked up at Vinland through teary eyes. His head was leaning against Vinland's chest, where he could hear the song and feel the vibrations from his chest; it was very soothing. Is this what it felt like to be him when he was younger?

"I just think you should know that you were great, big brother." And with that, Vinland smiled and walked away.

AN: Alright! Done my first Hetalia fanfic! First off, I would like to apologize for any of the following:

a) Historical misinformation; I got all my sources from the internet, so they may be wrong  
b) Typos, grammatical errors, etc.: they bug me in other people's work, and drive me even more crazy in my own  
c) For having too many OCs that may seem like Mary Sue's; that was really not my intention, but personally, I do not think having Canada as just Matthew Williams is fair, because in my opinion, there are three dominant cultures in Canada's society: English (Matthew), French (?), and Aboriginal (Pocahontas, and if you're wondering about the name, none of the others I found online worked as well in my opinion); yes, I am a political science student  
d) I tried to be as canon as possible, so sorry if any characters were overly OOC at some points!  
e) If anything offended anyone; I wasn't trying to be racist!

For those of you who are wondering…  
-the pregnant woman was actually Freydís Eiríksdóttir  
-the lullaby Iceland sang is actually pretty creepy; look up Icelandic lullabies, and one of the ones on the first page will hopefully say something about 'creepy Icelandic lullabies'  
- Hákarl is a type of shark meat that may cause people to vomit the first time they try it; it smells a lot like ammonia  
-The human names of Danmark (Denmark), Norge (Norway), and Iceland are all named that the author of the manga are considering as their human names; I just picked the ones that were my favourite (I know that most fans call Danmark Matthias, which does work, but maybe it's too similar to Matthew? I don't know)  
-If you have any more questions, feel free to ask!

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! If you have any questions, comments, flames (please deliver them nicely though, but I do like constructive criticism), or anything at all, please review! I like reviews!


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